


Shadowcape

by Lukra (49percentchanceofbees)



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Gen, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-11 03:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13515507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/49percentchanceofbees/pseuds/Lukra
Summary: For weeks, the Raptorik warriors Shadowcape and Onyxarm have been held and experimented on by strange dragons. This time, Shadowcape doesn't seem to be coming back from the test chamber ...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [read on tumblr](http://starwood-stranded.tumblr.com/post/170270179114/the-raptorik-warriors-shadowcape-and-onyxarm-have) / [read on deviantart](https://argetl.deviantart.com/art/Shadowcape-part-1-728187435)

Based on the sunlight streaming through the bars of the cell, it had been about six hours since the dragons took Shadowcape away. Usually they brought their test subjects back by now, unless they were not coming back at all … usually they brought food by now too, but Onyxarm’s stomach remained empty.

 

From the ritual chamber at the end of the cage-lined hallway Nyx had heard Shadow’s screams, as usual, and then the screams of their captors -- not usual -- and then silence, for hours. At first he had hung in unbearable suspense, but as the hours passed, that trickled away. He had started to conclude that some ill-conceived twist of magic had killed Shadow and all the dragons, and left him and the other surviving subjects here to die a slow death of starvation … Then he heard footfalls coming down the hallway. He'd learned the steps of every dragon here -- noted which were cruel and which were kind, which spoke a bit of Talonok or Harpy and which would smack him for making too much noise.

 

Whatever approached now was far heavier than any of them. The steps were irregular, dragging, as if the creature were injured, but still, all the other prisoners went quiet, even the dumb animals. Hurt as it might be, the newcomer had spooked them.

 

For a moment Nyx considered going to bars of the cage, drawing the thing’s attention, so it would just kill him and be done with it. But that wasn’t what  _ Shadow _ would want, so he slid back into the shadows at the back of his cell and hoped it would pass him by.

 

It didn’t.

 

A paw larger than Nyx’s entire body planted itself outside his cell, and then an even larger head lowered itself into view, square-jawed, grey scales splotched with a bright, toxic red … and splashed with blood. Its claws were bloody too, Nyx realized, and its great golden eye -- huge to Nyx but proportionally small, nestled within the creature’s bony face -- tilted towards the cage door and stared straight at him. However brave he might have wanted to be, he could feel himself shrinking back, wilfing, his feathers pressing themselves to his body in an instinctive attempt to make himself smaller and less noticeable.

 

The head withdrew. Nyx dared to breathe. And then the great paw lifted and tore, madly, at the cell door. Claws caught in the bars and tore the fairly flimsy door off its hinges, tossing it away; Nyx heard it clatter against the opposite wall. Then the great horned head was back, pushing into the cell, filling the available space -- the red-banded horns caught on the ceiling, wouldn’t fit inside -- bearded snout pinning Nyx against the wall. Nyx squirmed, his vision filled by grey scales and splashes of scarlet and those enormous golden eyes, and the dragon roared, deafeningly, a strangled, squalling sound.

 

_ A Raptorik warrior never surrenders _ , but in this moment Nyx wasn’t sure he  _ was _ a Raptorik warrior anymore, and he gave up, curling into a ball, covering his head with his talons -- he would have used his wings, but they were bound behind his back.

 

Miraculously, it worked. The dragon retreated, pulling its head out of the cell. Nyx let out a single relieved breath, and then screamed, the sound abruptly cut off, as the dragon’s great paw reached in and wrapped around him.

 

For a long moment Nyx made no attempt to move or even think. Eventually it occurred to him that he was not dead, as expected; his body had cruelly refused him even the relief of fainting. Instead the paw had moved, taking him with it, lifting up and out -- presumably removing him from the cell. Unlike his previous captors, this particular dragon possessed extremities poorly-suited to grasping; stubby toes pinned him against the pad of its foot, and contorted as he’d already been, he could see nothing. What could the creature possibly want with him? If it were hungry, there were other prisoners far better-fleshed … 

 

He felt the dragon move again, an awkward, lumbering motion that swung him through the air -- after a moment he realized that this was, possibly, the result of it trying to walk on three legs, the fourth fully occupied holding him. An odd behavior, but then everything about this creature seemed odd; and at this moment, right when he began to grow curious about the situation rather than abjectly terrified, and actually wanted to see what would happen next, his body decided that it had had enough and shut down, plunging him into sudden senselessness.


	2. Chapter 2

When he woke, Nyx’s first reaction was disappointment.  _ I’m not dead. That means I have to keep dealing with this gryphon dung. _

 

He found himself in what seemed like a giant hammock, only dimly lit. The space was twice as long as he was tall, high enough for him to stand upright -- if he could get his footing -- and roofed in the same soft leather that formed the floor beneath him. It wasn’t really a floor, though, for there was no solid surface under it; it swayed and shifted as he moved. Nyx’s wings were still tied, and he was still starving, so he quickly noticed that some food -- a netted bag of fruit and berries -- had been tossed in with him, settling at his side as his slight weight pulled the leather down. Tearing open the bag, he ate, and as he did so he realized that he was sitting in a rather similar bag, of leather rather than netting, and sized for a dragon rather than a Raptorik.

 

Briefly, he hoped that he wasn’t also sitting in a food bag, for later consumption. But he was alone here, and one Raptorik would not make much of a meal for a dragon large enough to carry this satchel.

 

The satchel didn’t hang freely, either. Nyx realized slowly that under the leather on his left was a solid surface -- a firm, warm surface that moved slightly, in and out, in and out …

 

Before Nyx could even fully process that he was currently strapped to the dragon’s body, the world around him started to shake. Then the flap above him opened and the dragon’s snout poked in briefly; before Nyx could react, it withdrew slightly and instead leveled a golden eye at him. A rumble from deep in the dragon’s chest made Nyx’s bones vibrate. He pushed himself back into the corner of the bag, away from the dragon -- at least, away from its face -- and tried to look small and not worth eating.

 

It seemed to work. The dragon turned away, closing the flap, and Nyx let out a sigh of relief. He was safe.

 

Except he wasn’t safe at all, he realized almost immediately: he remained trapped in this bag, completely at the mercy of an enormous dragon. Judging by his prior experiences, he could expect little of that.

 

The bag shuddered and swayed as the dragon moved around. Looking at his own shaking talons, Nyx forced himself to take a deep breath. Really, he was in no more danger than before. Dragons were thinking beings, not mindless beasts. Even if this individual seemed more savage than his previous captors, it had placed him in this bag -- and washed the blood from its face, he realized after the fact -- so it wasn’t feral. It must’ve had some plan for him.

 

Of course, that plan still might be  _ worse _ than the quick and brutal death a rampaging featherback boar might have provided.

 

_ As long as we’re alive, things can get better. _ Shadow had told him that many times during their captivity. Gods, Shadow … Shadow would have known what to make of this new situation. On his own, Nyx felt utterly lost. And it wasn’t just their guidance he missed. The thought that he would probably never see his sibling again … 

 

Shadow would tell him to stop moping and look for a way out, and after an embarrassingly long interlude of grief, that was what Onyxarm did.

 

The bag’s sides rose nearly twice as tall as Nyx stood, but while the leather was smooth, it wasn’t sheer. He hooked his claws -- he couldn’t help seeing them now as tiny and delicate, compared to the creature carrying him, to the paw that had snatched him up -- into the leather and climbed.

 

It wasn’t that far. Soon he found himself clinging near the top of the bag and wondering what to do now. He pushed at the flap with one hand, but it didn’t move: he definitely wouldn’t be able to hold onto the side and lift the flap at once. Even if he could find some decent leverage, it felt too heavy to budge; maybe it was fastened somehow. If so, Nyx had no chance of opening it.

 

Even as he contemplated this, it became unnecessary: the dragon opened the bag again, folding back the flap. Now that he hung at the top of the bag rather than sitting at the bottom, he could see the dragon curled back on itself to examine and interact with the bag on its side, its head tilting down on a long, muscular neck. It drew back a bit, apparently surprised to see Nyx at the flap instead of waiting patiently to be disposed of, and in that moment Nyx seized the opportunity and jumped out of the bag.

 

Only on the way down did he remember that his wings were still tied.

 

With a deep, resonant roar, the dragon twisted clumsily, paws flailing and wings flapping, creating a tremendous wind that buffeted Nyx as he fell, and then it caught him in its mouth.

 

_ Oh, Shade _ , Nyx thought. For a second everything was still, Nyx lying askew in the dragon’s open mouth, too startled to still be alive to try to escape, and then, very slowly and carefully, the dragon lowered its head and tilted it forward until Nyx slid off its tongue onto the ground. He could have preened the dirt under him. The dragon moved around and above him, but he stayed still: he’d given up, he thought for a moment, but then Shadow was in his head again, urging him on. Was he really going to give up and let himself die now when he was closer to freedom than he had ever been? He was on the ground, not in a cage: now he could run for it. He jumped up, despite his entire body telling him how bruised and exhausted it was, and looked hurriedly for his escape.

 

The dragon curled around him, cutting off most of his options, but it wasn’t flexible enough to form a complete circle: if he could climb over its tail, he could get out and escape. He took two steps before the big head poked into his path, making angry noises that didn’t sound like words even in the dragon tongue. Almost falling, Nyx swerved around it, and it moved again to cut him off. The dragon was back on its feet now, body lifted off the ground as it shifted and minced around him. Had Nyx not been so completely focused on escape, he might have wondered why it didn’t just grab him; certainly it could have smashed him to paste at any point, but that didn’t seem to be its goal. Taking a risk, Nyx spun on his heel and darted under that massive body, hoping to come out the other side before it could turn. He found himself almost too successful: as the dragon tried to follow him, its legs became tangled, and it fell right towards him, wailing, wings flapping again.  _ Not very coordinated _ , Nyx thought -- likely to be his last thought before he was crushed flat by the dragon’s massive weight. But somehow it managed to twist itself away, claws digging in the dirt and throwing up clumps of soil as big as Nyx himself, tail lashing over his head. The impact of its body hitting the ground knocked Nyx off his feet, stunning him. Its wing formed a ceiling over him, great grey splotches like clouds in the sky, and for a moment his addled mind could only wonder about the oncoming storm.

 

When the dragon picked itself up, Nyx flinched and started to his feet, wobbly as a new-hatched chick. Quickly, it placed a paw down next to him, wrist bent so that it curved around him, and as he recoiled it did the same on his other side, and then rapidly lowered itself to the ground, so that if he wished to escape he would have to climb over its forelegs. With his escape thus cut off, it let out a long exhalation that Nyx could read as a sigh even across species.

 

_ What, you’re not enjoying this either? _ Nyx stared up at his captor with a note of anger rising within him -- was it not enough for these dragons that they’d taken his sibling already; did they have to torment him like this too -- and said, “What do you want?”

 

The dragon made a series of noises that sounded more like hatchling babble than anything else: slurred, wordless, clumsy. Apparently displeased by this, it snorted and flicked its head, then carefully, carefully scooped him up in one paw, a talon pinning him against its pad. Nyx struggled and found some actual success, but by the time he started to squirm out of its grip, they were high enough that --

 

Nyx got a good look at the ground and stopped struggling.

 

First, he hadn’t registered until now that they were outside the dragons’ laboratory, in one of the massive, dragon-sized forests that characterized the area. But, more importantly, he saw the series of scratches on the ground below, painstakingly shaped into words in the Talonok language. The dragon’s fall had rubbed out some of them, but he could still read most of them.

 

_ I M SHADO _


	3. Chapter 3

“Shadow?” Nyx said.

 

Carefully setting him back on the ground, its claws around him to block any escape, the dragon nodded, the first intelligible sign it had ever given him.

 

After a stunned moment, Nyx shook his head, slowly at first and then faster, anger rising in his chest. Obviously this dragon, this  _ monster _ , was not Shadow. That was impossible. How could the creature lie to him like this -- what did it even have to gain, besides making him suffer?

 

“Shade take you,” Nyx cursed, with heat at first, fading into exhaustion as he continued: “Shade take you, Shade take you …”

 

Nyx collapsed, sagging to the ground, his head hanging. The dragon rested its own head on the torn-up dirt and made a low rumble that shook Nyx’s bones.

 

Glaring at it, Nyx asked again, “What do you  _ want _ ?”

 

The dragon just looked at him for a long moment, as if it didn’t know how to answer the question -- not that it seemed able to speak, anyway. Then finally it sat up and began brushing at the dirt before it with its paws, smoothing it out. Nyx watched, too tired to run, as the creature clawed symbols into the dirt, presumably Talonok letters, though Nyx couldn’t read them from his perspective: they were too large, not to mention upside down. When it finished, the dragon sat on its haunches and looked at him expectantly.

 

“I don’t  _ care _ what you have to say,” Nyx snapped, but after a long moment he finally picked himself up and dragged himself over to where he could read the text.

 

_ I’LL TAKE YOU HOME _

 

Nyx looked up at the dragon, questions and objections and invective on his beak. Why would he want to lead a potentially hostile dragon to his home? How else would it know where his home was? Unless it was, in fact, Shadow … But no; that was impossible.

 

“No,” Nyx said. “Just leave me alone.”

 

The dragon visibly sagged, its wings drooping. The total dejection of its appearance made Nyx wonder if dragons cried. He almost pitied the creature. At least, until it leaned over him, an alarming move that made his feathers puff up, and scratched out one more word.

 

_ PLEASE _

 

“No!” Nyx started to move, wings flexing, and then discovered that they were still bound. He whirled on the dragon. “How can you claim to be my sibling when you kept me prisoner just like all the other dragons? Shadow would have bloody well  _ untied _ me!”

 

The dragon curled its tail around its nose, then slowly, slowly reached for Nyx. He skittered away. Though its intentions were probably … “You can’t just do it now and claim you meant to all along!”

 

The dragon moaned, a low, miserable sound, and curled further in on itself, tucking its legs under its body and wrapping its wings around itself, though it kept its head out of the tent thus created, watching Nyx with plaintive eyes. Finally it reached out with just one claw and scratched one more word in the dirt.

 

_ NYX _

 

Nyx turned away, disgusted, and started to pick his way across the clearing. Before he even got halfway to the trees doubts started to occur to him. First of all, he wasn’t sure how he planned to get home on foot; unarmed and deprived of his wings, he’d almost certainly fall prey to other dragons, or to any hungry beast. Maybe he should at least let the dragon cut his bonds … And something else nagged at his mind, something he’d missed.

 

Oh.  _ Oh _ . How had the dragon known his name? He’d never given any of his captors his full name, let alone his nickname; they hadn’t cared. They might have overheard him and Shadow talking, but … he’d never seen this dragon among his captors. What were the chances that one of the indifferent dragons had not only caught his name -- and Shadow’s -- in passing but bothered to convey that information to one of its fellows? If this dragon were one of its fellows -- the screams and blood had rather suggested otherwise.

 

But it couldn’t be Shadow, could it? That wasn’t possible. 

 

Turning, Nyx saw that the dragon was now on its feet, looking after him with its neck craned, but hadn’t moved to follow him, though it very much looked like it wanted to, every line of its body leaning forward.

 

He stepped back towards it, cursing his own stupidity as he did. “You can’t talk?”

 

The dragon shook its head and, as if to demonstrate, made more of those slurred hatchling-babble sounds. As if it were only just learning to speak -- as if its mouth and tongue were new to it. As if it had recently transformed into an unfamiliar body.

 

“And you know where home is?”

 

The dragon nodded and scratched more words in the dirt. With a sigh --  _ I should just run _ \-- Nyx moved to where he could see them.

 

_ FAIRFEATHER GROVE. EAST. _

 

“Untie me,” Nyx said.

 

The dragon reached out, but its claws were mostly dull, and when it tried to cut Nyx’s bonds, it just ended up hooking them and lifting him off the ground. It groaned apologetically.

 

For a long time Nyx just stared at the dragon, suspicion and exhaustion and fear and homesickness warring in his heart. The dragon didn’t move, just watched him back. Finally he let out a long sigh.

 

“Look, I still don’t believe you’re Shadow. But … I’ll let you take me home.”

 

The dragon perked up at once, head tossing in apparent delight. Then it leaned its head down near Shadow, angling the horns towards him. It took him a long moment -- and a couple shakes of the head towards him -- to realize what it wanted. And then, slowly, carefully, he climbed on.

 

This was such a bad idea. But it was, realistically, his only chance to get home.


End file.
